


Hair

by NinjaWieldingLimes



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hair, Romance, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 05:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4594785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NinjaWieldingLimes/pseuds/NinjaWieldingLimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Commander Jolene Shepard doesn't like her hair. Garrus Vakarian does.</p><p>A short, fluffy, Shakarian one-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hair

The nightmares were back. Tonight there were voices along with shadows, whispering both good and bad memories back at her. She was running too slow. Her breathing was too loud in her own ears. But the dream didn't get a chance to come to its horrific conclusion. Instead there was a light tugging sensation at the top of her head, not unpleasant in the least. The tugging dragged her out of the forest and back into the captain's quarters on the Normandy.

Shepard slowly opened her eyes, becoming aware that her breathing and heart rate were slowing to normal speeds, and that Garrus lay behind her, running his fingers through her hair. It was the first time he’d stayed overnight in her quarters since he’d rejoined the Normandy crew, and Shepard was still getting used to the fact that he was really here, in the flesh.

“I didn't know your hair was wavy,” he whispered as Shepard rolled over to face him. “You always have it tied up in that little...thing.”

“It's called a ponytail,” Shepard replied with a small smile, propping her head up on her forearm. “It's easier to manage that way.”

Garrus brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I like it like this. You should have it like this more often.”

“It's not regulation.”

“Screw regulation. Besides, you aren't on duty all the time. And you’re a Spectre.”  
  
“Like I said, it's easier to manage. It doesn't get in my face, and it tangles a lot less.” Shepard shifted closer to Garrus, enough to feel the heat radiating from his warmer skin. “I kind of want to get a shorter haircut, like I had when we first met.”  
  
Garrus' brows shot up, his expression instantly pleading. “But... but Jo... it's so...”  
  
Shepard felt the corners of her lips quirk upwards. “You like it that much?”  
  
“Yeah.” The turian's mandibles fluttered, briefly showing his sharp teeth in an alien smile that had become so familiar.

The lock of hair fell back to its original place. “It's a hassle, G.”

“It's beautiful,” Garrus murmured, taking the offending strands between finger and thumb, examining them closely. “I like the colour of it.”

“It's just brown.”

“There's red in it, too. I like it.”  
  
The two of them were silent for a while. Garrus continued to entwine his fingers in Shepard's hair. As he did, Shepard brushed her hand along his crest, over the straight edges of his clan markings, across the ridges and valleys of damaged flesh and carapace around his right mandible.  
  
The fish tank bubbled.  
  
The hamster squeaked.  
  
After a while, Garrus spoke again. “Just after I first joined C-Sec, there was this other guy, a newer recruit who claimed he'd slept with a human, and that she had little hairs all over her body. We didn't believe him at the time. It all sounded too far-fetched to be true.”  
  
“Are you happy to be proven wrong?”  
  
Garrus let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Yeah. It's soft to the touch. Especially the hair on your arms. Not so much, uh... down there. But it's all great. I like the texture.”  
  
“So I shouldn't start shaving again?” Shepard replied with a playful smirk.  
  
“Shaving? Shaving it off?” Garrus' expression went from playful to alarmed. “That sounds... almost painful. And dangerous. Why would anyone want to do that?”  
  
“It's smoother. Some people like that.”

“Hmm...” the turian murmured, his subharmonics a low, rumbling purr. “Well, you and I both know I like it a little rougher.”  
  
Shepard couldn't help but chuckle at that.  
  
Another pause. The sheets rustled as Garrus shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position on a mattress that was clearly not made to accommodate his turian body. Whenever he stretched out his legs, his feet would hang off the end of the bed. There was no curve to the mattress either, nothing to support his narrower waist. They'd had to make do with a couple extra pillows. Shepard made a mental note to see if she couldn't pull some strings and get a split mattress, one half turian and the other half human. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of her boyfriend's fingers running through her hair. She briefly touched her forehead to his before settling back, her head on her pillow, completely at ease, letting blissfully quiet sleep take her.  
  
~~  
  
A loud clattering. Muffled, foreign words that her translator couldn't quite pick up.  
  
The door to the bathroom slid open.  
  
“Um... Jo?” Garrus' voice was a combination of inquisitive and hesitant.  
  
Shepard opened her bleary eyes and sat up in bed to see Garrus standing in the bathroom doorway, wearing the turian equivalent of boxers, holding something in his hands. It was rare that Shepard got to see him this early. Garrus was much more of a morning person than she was, and was usually first to the mess hall, eating his share of dextro rations before most of the crew had even woken up.  
  
“What is it, G?” Shepard mumbled, trying to see what he was holding. Her vision was obscured by the display of model ships across the room.  
  
“What...what is this? What does this do?” Garrus held up Shepard's pink and white paddle hair brush, a look of utter bewilderment on his face.  
  
“It's a hair brush,” Shepard replied, unsuccessfully stifling a yawn. “I brush my hair with it.”  
  
“Uh...” Garrus flicked one of the bristles hesitantly and picked at some hair strands left on the brush. “Is hair supposed to come off like this?”  
  
“Yeah. Here.” Shepard sat up on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through her hair. As usually happened when she let her hair down overnight, there was a plentitude of tangles to deal with. “Let me show you.”  
  
Still sleepy, she slid her feet into her slippers, and shuffled over to the bathroom. The bathroom cabinet was open, and much of its contents had fallen into the sink and on the floor.  
  
'Well, I guess that explains the racket,' Shepard thought to herself as she started putting her things back in their original places in the cabinet.  
  
“Sorry. I slipped.” Garrus looked sheepish, and Shepard couldn't help but smile as she took the brush from his hands and started her morning routine, working the bigger tangles out one by one.  
  
Garrus was fascinated, entranced by the way the bristles of the brush affected Shepard's hair. The way it frizzed out, and how the static drew the hair upwards after each stroke. Shepard did not seem as enthused about the static. By the time she'd pulled the hair back to tie up, she was grumbling about how her hair would be so much easier to handle without the static her biotics caused, and how Kaidan must have connections in the hair gel industry because his hair was probably never this bad. With a frustrated huff, Shepard glowered at herself in the mirror for a moment before turning back to face Garrus, eyes still half closed and drowsy, gradually adjusting to the brighter light of the bathroom.  
  
“Tadah,” she intoned sarcastically, making a half-hearted jazz hands motion. “And there you have it.”  
  
Garrus' expression was hard to read.  
  
“What?” Shepard turned back to the mirror, inspecting her hair. “Did I miss something?”  
  
“No, no, you've...uh... can I try brushing your hair some time?”  
  
The question was unexpected, but not unwelcome. “Sure, Garrus.”  
  
“It looks amazing.” Garrus stepped closer and hugged her from behind. “ _You're_ amazing.”  
  
“Flatterer.”  
  
“Besides, that whole process seemed very stressful for you, and the last thing you need right now is more stress.”  
  
Shepard sighed. “You’re not wrong.”  
  
The couple gazed at one another in the mirror. Garrus' long arms wrapped around her shoulders, just below her collarbone, his chin resting on top of her head. She loved that he was tall enough to do that.  
  
“Shall I get you a coffee, Shepard?”  
  
“Please.”

**Author's Note:**

> It has been an incredibly long time since I have publicly posted anything that I've written. At least five years, maybe six. And I've never posted on AO3 before, so I'm not sure I've gotten all the protocol. Constructive criticism is appreciated, because I know my writing skills are rusty as heck.


End file.
